I Work Hard To Be Happy

I spoke with a dear friend this evening, and she said, 'what happened... why no more blogs?' 

I sort of hummed and hawed, and confessed that I just was feeling below par... almost a little too raw right now to write.

Our call coincided with a message I received from another dear friend, exclaiming how happy and radiant I looked, and how everything must be so fabulous in my life.

I think I do have a pretty amazing life, but it's not one that has been handed on a platter for me.

When I say this, I don't mean financially - in fact, I've earned very little money myself, and have little to show for my achievements in that sense. I guess it has been handed to me on a platter... (When I met babe, I lived above a fish 'n' chip shop in a rough part of town and all my family lived in social housing. We weren't rich. Quite the opposite.)

What I mean is, I really do fight to experience the amazingness of my life.

The other night, I had to drive to the grocery store after putting the kids to bed.  We'd had what I call a hodge-podge dinner, using up all the weird things left in the fridge to make a meal - but it's normally when I haven't been grocery shopping for a while and there is nothing 'nice' to eat. We were past that point, we had entered 'Old Mother Hubbard' phase - there was nothing, nada, zilch, zero food in the fridge, nothing deep fried and mothers-guilt-inducing Birds Eye something or other in the freezer so off to Publix I went.

I wasn't sad at all, just tired as always, and working through the to-do's in my head, listening to D'Angelo loud in the car, singing at the top of my voice. I thought of the parent helper mom that had emailed me and I had neglected to reply to, and I composed the reply in my mind "I am so sorry Kathy, we just moved to the US, and I must say I am really behind with all the correspondences from my kids' 3 schools... keeping on top of it all and...."

Then I just burst in to tears in the car. 

I felt this huge ugly gulf of loneliness that had not been there a moment before.  It just washed over me at that precise time, and I was struck by the realization that I haven't got anyone here... phone calls and face time don't cut it.... it's a-glass-of-pinot-at-a-moment's-notice-and-an-overdue-offload-to-a-friend-that-won't-judge-me that I was missing at that split second.

The tears didn't last long.  They rarely do - there's no time to wallow.  There's a business to run, and tiny people living in our house needing love, attention and feeding, a husband to adore....

So I went to Publix, and did my grocery shopping, came home, kissed my wonderful husband and went to bed, happy.

A very long winded way to say, this stuff doesn't come naturally to me.

I am, in essence, a recovering depressive. All my leanings, and propensities are towards depression.  My family has a history of bipolar. I'm not naturally a happy, positive person.  I work really hard to be this happy.

Babe just laughed as I grabbed my laptop like a woman possessed, suddenly struck by the desire to write, and said 'I'm always happy' and he is.... so is our son Leon... two little lights, smiling and affable and life-giving. And I love that.

I'm not built that way, but by jove I try my best to be that way.

And I am happy.

My mental leanings might be more towards the blue, but my heart leans forcefully towards the red.  I know who I want to be. I want to be love.  I want to swim in love. I want to give love and receive love, and make those that I meet feel loved.

It's not easy for me though.

I remember, back in 2005, after having my first baby there was a health visitor questionnaire all new moms had to fill in.  One of the questions was 'have you had any suicidal thoughts or wanted to harm yourself or your baby?'

Now, I'm a new mom, feeling blue... at times I would fantasize about driving my car into a tree because I could not deal with the reality of a new baby, how much had changed, how hard it was... so what do you tick... yes or no?  Do you want someone to take your baby away? Because you know what might be passing thoughts of helplessness, or overwhelm, can be quickly be translated as you not being a fit mother.

After a tearful coffee morning with our week old babies, a friend, C, whispered to me 'everyone lies for that question' and once again, that realization - "ok, maybe I'm not insane, maybe this is in some way normal, maybe I just need some anti-depressants or to talk to someone" - made it ok.  Suddenly, it was do-able again.  Life, I mean. Life was do-able again.

I've made a ton of progress since then. Lots of therapy and self-awareness.  A husband like babe helps a lot :) 

Real people help too.

I met someone yesterday, in his mid-seventies, and out of the blue he told me he was seeing a psychotherapist.  He said he has killed a lot of people in Vietnam and had met someone in his church who was helping him work through those long time issues.

He was so open and matter-of-fact about it and I don't think he realized how much he blessed me by sharing that.  

There's no shame in sharing you work hard to be your best self.  In fact, how on earth do people get to be their best self anyway? It IS hard work. Bloody hard work.  (Despite the image some may want you to believe).

I'm just not buying it anymore.

Even if you do lean more towards the red, I don't think you have it easier.

Whatever curriculum you have in front of you right now, whatever is going to grow you and make you better is going to be HARD. 

So, me... I'm going to keep writing.... even if no one reads it, or no one cares.  I'm going to keep on keeping on. Even when I feel overwhelmed, and lonely, and like nothing is right I am going to keep on working hard to be happy.

Knowing it's not easy, but it's not impossible either.

How about you?